The Rogue Hunter (9 page)

"Yes. We are," Decker assured her, drawing her gaze across the table to where he sat. Once she was looking at him, he added, "We're not that big a deal, though."

"Yet," Bricker inserted. "We just got our first recording contract and we—"

"What's the name?" Sam interrupted suspiciously.

"Name?" Bricker echoed, and she didn't miss the alarm that flashed across his face.

"Of your band," she explained dryly.

His gaze shot to each of the other men before he blurted, "The Rippers."

"The Rippers?" Decker echoed with what sounded like dismay.

Sam turned her narrowed gaze his way to find him glaring at Bricker, but then he gave his head a little disgruntled shake and glanced back to her. Clearing his throat, he managed to say, "Yes. The Rippers."

"We've been arguing about the band name," Bricker explained smoothly. "We have to decide by the end of our stay here. We're debating between a couple of them, but I like the Rippers the best."

"The Rippers, huh?" Sam said dubiously, and glanced at Alex and Jo to find them both looking at her. Apparently, as she was the lawyer in the family, sorting out whether this was the truth was her jurisdiction. She turned her gaze back to the men, her expression considering, and then asked, "You've just got your first recording contract?"

The men each nodded in turn.

"Wouldn't you have to choose the name before signing the contract? It would have to be on the contract, wouldn't it?" The question shot out of her mouth like a bullet, aimed at Mortimer. His eyes widened, his mouth freezing mid-chew.

"The contract just listed our names and said 'henceforth to be called The Band," Bricker drawled, appearing to be enjoying himself as he threw the legalese around. "There was some kind of codicil about the name to be chosen by us, with the recording company's approval, of course. That's why we're here, really. We just spent three months in the studio making the first CD. We came up here for a break and to figure out what we want our new name to be before heading out on tour to promote the CD."

"
New
name?" she asked sharply. "So your band had a different name?"

"Oh yes," he assured her, and then said, "Before the contract we opened for other bigger name bands, touring as Morty and the Muppets."

This brought a choking cough from Mortimer, and Sam glanced his way to see him pounding his own chest as he coughed up the bit of burger that had apparently gone down wrong. She watched with concern until his coughing stopped and some of the redness left his face, and then turned back to Bricker and asked, "Who did you open for?"

"Oh, well, the… er…" He paused and smiled wryly. "I bet you're a good lawyer."

"Very good," she agreed calmly. "And compliments aren't going to help your case."

Bricker nodded and then said, "We've mostly toured Europe up until now, opening for bands like Oasis and the Darkness." He paused to sip at his beer and then announced out of the blue, "Mortimer's the lead singer."

Sam glanced to the man in question as he suddenly began to choke again.

"All right, that's enough," Decker snapped, leaning around to thump Mortimer on the back. "It's time to help convince them."

Seeing that Mortimer had gotten down the bit of food he'd been choking on, Sam turned her gaze expectantly to Decker.

"We're in a band. Not a very successful one," he added, making Bricker groan. "The band is called the Rippers." His lip curled as he said the name, and then he slid an amused glance Mortimer's way and made him groan by adding, "Mortimer is the lead singer."

Sam opened her mouth to shoot another sharp question at him, but the question died in her throat as Decker's gaze narrowed on her. For some reason, it suddenly all seemed perfectly plausible, and she found herself relaxing back in her seat with a nod, satisfied this time that it was true. They were having dinner with the members of the band the Rippers… formerly Morty and the Muppets. Wasn't that nice?

"Would anyone like some dessert?" Jo asked, and Sam glanced her way to see her smiling cheerfully, apparently equally satisfied. "Alex brought up a lovely flan with her and we thought we'd have that. I'm afraid there's no coffee without power, but…" She shrugged.

"Flan sounds good even without coffee," Bricker assured her, and she smiled and stood.

"I'll get those," Sam said, standing to help when Jo began to collect the dirty plates.

In the next moment, the subject of what the men did for a living was completely forgotten and everyone was getting up, collecting plates and condiments to carry inside. Without power to run the pump there was no water, which made washing dishes out of the question, so they simply scraped the plates clean and set them in the sink. With everyone helping, the table was cleared in no time and the flan and small plates replaced the earlier mess. Everyone took a piece of the sweet offering, but Sam noted again that Decker seemed only to mush up his dessert and push it around his plate.

"This is excellent, Alex. Thank you," Mortimer murmured as he finished his.

"Would you like more?" she asked, flushing with pleasure.

"Yes, please."

"I see you have your appetite back," Bricker said meaningfully, and Sam glanced curiously from one man to the other, noting with interest that the comment seemed to annoy Mortimer.

"So where is the nightlife here?" Decker asked abruptly, distracting her.

Sam smiled wryly at the question. "There isn't one, really."

When the men exchanged a glance at this news, frowns gracing each face, she added, "I mean nightlife in cottage country is vastly different from nightlife in the city. You
are
all from Toronto, aren't you?"

"What would make you think that?" Decker asked with interest.

Sam considered the question and then admitted, "I'm not sure. You just seem to be big-city types. You know, seen it all, been everywhere, bought the T-shirt and the movie-of-the-week DVD."

"I think we pretty much have," Decker said dryly, and the other men nodded solemnly.

"I suppose you see a lot while touring in a band," Alex commented.

A small silence went around the table, and then Bricker announced, "Mortimer and I are from the L.A. area."

"L.A.?" Sam asked with surprise. She wouldn't have pegged them as L.A. people. At least not Mortimer.

"Just outside L.A.," Mortimer corrected even as she had the thought. Apparently he didn't want to be associated with the city.

Bricker nodded agreement and then added, "Decker is from England."

"England?" Jo glanced at the man in question with surprise. "You don't have an accent."

"I moved over a long time ago. I make my home in Toronto now," he said, and then added under his breath, "Not that I'm home much."

"Oh yes." Jo nodded, her ponytail bobbing. "I suppose you're on the road a lot."

"Back to this nightlife business," Mortimer said, sounding a bit abrupt.

Reminded of their original question, Sam quickly explained, "There isn't much up here to begin with, but even less on Sunday night."

He frowned. "No bars or nightclubs?"

"There's a bar in the Lakeside," Jo reminded her.

"The Lakeside?" Bricker asked.

"A small hotel in town. Although calling it a hotel is rather ambitious," Sam said, thinking of the dingy little place. She knew there were rooms on the second floor but wouldn't have risked sleeping in them. "It has a bar on the main floor, but I don't know that the bar itself is actually open on Sunday nights."

"There's always the Andersons," Alex said.

"What is that?" Mortimer asked.

"Cottage party central," Sam said dryly. "There's always a party at the Anderson cottage, even on Sundays if they're up here."

"They're up here," Alex announced. "I saw Jack out in the boat earlier when I was sinking the beer and pop."

"Would they have a party even without power?" Bricker asked.

"Especially without power," Sam assured him, and then explained, "You can't read without power to keep the lights on, or play cards, or even watch television." She shrugged. "There's nothing to do but sit around the fire and visit."

"Where is the Andersons' cottage?" Decker asked curiously.

"The far end of the lake."

Mortimer nodded slowly. "So we take the main road and…?"

"You can't go by car," Sam said at once.

"You can't?" Bricker asked with surprise.

"Well…" She paused and frowned uncertainly and then said, "I suppose you can, of course, but I can't direct you there that way. The only way I've been there is by boat."

Sam glanced at her sisters in question, but both shook their heads. No one could show them the way by road.

"But you know the way there by boat?" Bricker asked.

"Yes."

"I don't have a boat," Decker pointed out quietly.

"The girls do," Bricker said cheerfully. "They can take us."

Sam was just stiffening at the presumptuous words when Alex said, "We'd be happy to."

Sam stared at her with amazement. Of the three of them, Alex was the most likely to get upset by such presumptuousness, but she was smiling and… Sam frowned as she took in her smile. It was rather empty and vague, lacking any of the sharpness and intelligence of the usual Alex. In fact, it appeared more like a mask than anything. Concern claiming her, she glanced at Jo. The two of them exchanged worried frowns, and then Jo suddenly looked away toward Bricker and visibly relaxed. In the next moment, Sam herself was relaxing in her seat as her confusion melted away.

"It's all right," she heard Decker say. "Everything is fine. Just relax and go with it."

At least she thought he said that. Though the truth was, it sounded more like it was in her head than her ears. Despite that, his words seemed perfectly reasonable to her, and she felt her worry slipping away.

"Goddammit, Pimms! You too, Bricker. Both of you, cut it out," Sam heard Mortimer snap, but couldn't seem to work up any curiosity about his upset. It was as if she were cocooned inside a bubble of calm and unconcern. She wasn't even curious when the men all suddenly rose as one and moved away from the table again. She was completely happy to simply sit there staring at nothing.

Mortimer led the men to the end of the deck, then whirled to face them and snapped, "Stop doing that!"

"Relax, Mortimer, we aren't hurting them," Decker said soothingly.

"The hell you aren't," he growled. "How would you like to have your free will taken away?"

Decker arched an eyebrow at the question. "We've done this a thousand times with a thousand different mortals while working together. What makes this time different?"

Mortimer opened his mouth, and then abruptly snapped it closed, his teeth grinding together. He had no answer. They had indeed done this previously, and he'd never before had a problem with it. Reading and controlling the minds of mortals was just another tool they sometimes used in their hunt for rogues. It didn't normally bother him, but this time… Eyes narrowing on Decker's expression, he accused, "You've been taking control of them on purpose."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he claimed, expression innocent.

"The hell you don't." Mortimer sighed wearily and ran a hand through his hair. He was pretty sure the man was trying to provoke him into admitting that Sam was his life mate. Mortimer wasn't ready to do that yet, but he also didn't like the way Decker kept taking control of Sam. "Just stop doing it, okay?"

Decker considered him silently and then said, "If it's what you wish, I won't control Sam anymore."

Mortimer nodded stiffly.

"Does that mean we can't control Alex and Jo anymore either?" Bricker asked.

"No," Decker said at once. "It means that—if necessary—we will control Alex and Jo. However, we'll leave Sam for Mortimer to deal with."

"But he can't control Sam," Bricker pointed out. "What if she gets upset about something or asks too many questions again?"

"Then it will be interesting to see how he deals with her, won't it," Decker said with dry amusement, and turned to move back to the table.

Mortimer let his breath out on a slow sigh as he followed them back to the table. For some reason he felt like he might have just made matters worse.

"I guess we'll have to take both boats."

Alex's comment as they stepped onto the dock made Sam pause and glance over the two small boats on either side of the dock. One was a gold runabout and the other a small aluminum fishing boat. Neither would take six people.

"Surely we can all fit on one," Bricker said, moving up between them with the cooler he'd volunteered to carry. It was stuffed full of bottles of beer, cans of pop, and the last of their melting ice, yet he carried it as if it were weightless. The man was stronger than he appeared.

"There are six of us and the speedboat only sits four, the fishing boat five," Sam answered. "Each only has one life jacket per seat." It wouldn't be safe for the six of them to pile onto one boat even for this short journey. Safety first had been drummed into them from youth when it came to boating. Glancing at Alex, she shrugged and said, "So we'll split into two groups. You captain one boat and I'll take the other."

"I get the
Goldie
!" Alex blurted at once and scrambled into the speedboat. Once safely onboard she turned back, stuck her tongue out at Sam, and said, "Neener neener neener."

"Oh, very mature." Sam laughed, shaking her head as she moved to the other side of the dock and the waiting aluminum fishing boat.

"Here, I'll go first." Mortimer was suddenly there, clambering down into the boat before her. Once standing in the bottom, he turned back and offered his hand, a concerned expression on his face.

Sam had been clambering on and off boats all her life and almost shunned his help, but knew this was because of her proven clumsiness caused by the ear infection. Knowing it would be more than humiliating should she refuse his help and end up getting a dunk in the lake, Sam heaved an inner sigh and accepted the hand he offered.

"Thank you," she murmured as she stepped onto the bench and then the floor of the small metal boat, but he didn't release her until she'd stepped back to settle herself on the seat in front of the outboard engine.